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by Apple_Queen



Series: Post 8x04 [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2020-02-28 10:37:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18754741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apple_Queen/pseuds/Apple_Queen
Summary: Post that episode, a reunion on Tarth.She pauses to shift whatever she is carrying and suddenly a little head pops up over her shoulder, two big green eyes looking interestedly around. Jaime flies towards her as if they are attached by a string that someone had pulled, his feet moving seemingly of their own volition.





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**Author's Note:**

> There are quite a lot of these reunion fics around already, but I needed the therapy of writing my own! Written rather rapidly and if I'm honest I could have spent longer editing, so I can't promise excellent grammar... but at least it's romantic, which I for one am sorely in need of after the episode that shall not be named!

Jaime recognised her immediately. Even after nigh on a year, just the sight of her back as she walked slowly along the harbour was unmistakable. He brushes off his advisors and follows, not trying to catch up yet, content just to be near her again after so long. He throws up a final prayer to the seven that she might show him some compassion. She pauses to shift whatever she is carrying and suddenly a little head pops up over her shoulder, two big green eyes looking interestedly around. Jaime flies towards her as if they are attached by a string that someone had pulled, his feet moving seemingly of their own volition.

He catches up with her as she descends the steps from the harbour onto the beach. “Brienne” he breathes reverently. She turns to him. There are dark circles under her eyes and she looks softer than he remembers. The astonishing eyes that haunt his dreams scan up and down his body, no doubt taking in the rich, red brocade of his tunic and shiny boots, then she turns to continue down the beach.

“Please Brienne, can we just talk?” She doesn’t reply but chooses a spot on the soft, white sand and looks up at him with angry expectation. He plops down next to her, able to see the chubby little baby better now she had moved it down onto her lap so it can look nosily around at the sea and hustle of the harbour.

Jaime can’t decide how to start unburdening himself of the great weight of things he needs to say to her, so much heavier since he’d seen the baby. Unquestionably their baby. He reaches down to adjust his boot and when he looks up the baby is smiling gummily at him, then it makes a noise that Jaime interprets as hello, although “ha-goo” is probably more accurate. He feels a warm melting sensation somewhere deep in his chest.

Brienne notes the direction of his gaze. “Did you hear about him? Is that why you’re here? You can’t have him.” She smooths a hand over his sparse blond hair.

“No, I had no idea... What’s his name?”

“Jaime.” She answers defiantly. For a moment he thinks she is referring to him, then he realises she has named their son after him. In spite of all he’s done. It gives him the final impetus to relieve himself of all the things he’d come to say. He apologises in every way he can think of, begs and grovels until Brienne stops staring out at the sea, glittering sapphire but as tumultuous as the mess of emotions in Jaime’s chest, and tells him to stop being an idiot.

Mouth suddenly dry, he can think of only one more thing to say. “I love you, you know. I think a part of me always has, since the day we met.”

Unable to meet her eyes, Jaime stares at the baby, memorising all his little mannerisms. A trail of milky vomit appears at the corner of his mouth so Jaime reaches for the cloth Brienne seems to keep for this purpose. She flinches away then reluctantly offers “would you like to hold him?”

He bounces the baby up and down, feeling astounded that she would trust him with something so precious. The baby is fascinated by his golden hand, treating it like a hilarious new toy.

“They’ve elected me King, I’m not sure if you heard...” the surprise is probably still evident in his voice, even so many months later. She shoots him a look of derision, as if to ask if he really thought Tarth was backwards enough to be unaware of who the new ruler had been for the last however many months.

He tries a different tract. “I wrote to you.”

“No Jaime, you summoned me. I was rather busy.” She gestures towards the baby.

“Sorry” he repeats flatly, then suddenly feels the need to explain himself. “I’ve just spent two months trying to find you, I had to practically tear Winterfell apart before Lady Sansa would admit you weren’t there. You must understand why I couldn’t leave Kings Landing any sooner, I had to stabilise the country to prevent any further bloodshed. And there were all the repairs to oversee... I know this can’t have been easy for you, but I’ve been trying to do the right thing for once in my life.” He finishes resentfully. 

Most of the fight seems to go out of her, she traces patterns in the sand contemplatively. “What happened to her? There are so many different rumours.” She asks nervously.

Cersei is a subject Jaime usually avoids above all others, but he knows he owes her the full story. After all, Cersei was the reason he left in the first place. “I wanted to try to save her, for the baby. Only it turned out she had been lying, there had never been a baby. I told her about you and she attacked me. That’s how I got this” he traces the scar on his cheek, strangely symmetrical to hers. “I didn’t realise how near the edge we were...”

Brienne reaches out and tentatively strokes his arm, making Jaime feel warm- not uncomfortably so, more as if the sun had suddenly come out from behind a cloud.

“What do you want Jaime?”

Had he not made himself clear? He thinks back over their conversation, no- somehow he hadn’t managed to actually say it yet. “I want you to marry me.”

Brienne’s eyes widen. Was her opinion of herself really so low that this was completely unexpected to her? The stillness was disturbed by a loud snort- the baby has fallen asleep in Jaime’s arms.

“I don’t think I’m what the people expect of their Queen.”

“After the last one, I should think they’d be keen for something different.” Not having heard a no, Jaime leans over and carefully kisses her. Her lips feel like home.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't given up on the idea of King Jaime and Queen Brienne! *Hands out petitions*


End file.
